


These Games We Play Can't Change Us

by carpemermaid



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Drinking Games, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Love/Hate, Spin the Bottle, petris - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day off from training, a stolen bottle of alcohol, and a game of Candor or Dauntless that turns into spin the bottle brings about a whole new wave of firsts for Tris Prior. Or, the one where Tris learns how to kiss from Peter Hayes. [Petris]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It figures out of all of the fandoms I'm in the ship with the least amount of stories is the one I decide to write for. Apologies in advance for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd.

The sound of skin hitting skin and skin hitting leather filled the air and mixed with the musky scent of sweat. Tris threw another punch into the punching bag hanging in front of her and pushed a stray hair from her eyes. She was only a few weeks into Dauntless initiation and she was starting to get used to the sore muscles. Eric and Four had the initiates working on their form with punching bags and with a partner. 

“That’s enough for today,” Eric called out from across the room. Tris looked down at her hands and saw that she had split open the skin on her knuckles. She followed Christina and the other initiates over to the center of the room where Eric and Four were standing. 

“Tomorrow you’ll have off from training, Eric and I both have mandatory meetings to attend,” Four said. “The training room will remain open tomorrow, should you wish to continue to work on your form. I highly suggest it, some of you need more practice than others.” 

Tris grit her teeth together when Four’s eyes cut over to her for a few long moments before looking away. The group of initiates started to gather their things, chattering loudly and began to leave the training room when Eric called after them. 

“That means you have tonight off to do as you please. Don’t go too crazy,” he said before he and Four left the room. Christina elbowed Tris in the side, grinning. Tris smiled back at her and started to laugh at the whoops and rowdiness from the other initiates surrounding them. They all started to leave as a group again, some people bumping into Tris as they bounced around excitedly. 

\- - -

After dinner Tris sat on her cot and put a small bandage over her cut on her hand while watching Christina and Will play some kind of hand slapping game that seemed to require speed and bravery. She laughed when either of them pulled away their hands before the other ever made a move to slap their hands down. Other transfer initiates were in the dorm as well, some washing up in the bathroom, and others just sitting around chatting in small groups. 

“Ah, you flinched, hah!” Will laughed as he teased Christina. Christina laughed and swapped hand positions with Will, her hands settling palm up and his palm down on top of her hands. Tris watched as they continued to play. She looked up at the sound of beds scraping on the floor and saw Edward, Myra, and Al moving the cots around to make room. 

“All right, we’re going to play a game since we have the night off,” Edward said as he gestured for everyone to come over. “I heard about it from one of the dauntless-born initiates, it’s called Candor or Dauntless. You can chose to tell the truth or you can chose to do a dare, and if you refuse then you have to strip off a piece of clothing.” 

“Yes! C’mon guys,” Christina says with a grin and is up pulling Tris and will along with her to the circle before Tris can say anything. 

“This’ll be good,” she says over her shoulder to Tris as they pick a spot in the circle against a concrete column. Christina plops down in the middle of them, with Will and Tris on either side. Al quickly finds a spot next to her. 

“We can’t play without this,” Peter says from across the circle. He’s holding up a bottle of amber colored alcohol. He has a wide grin on his face when he says, “Molly and I stole this from the kitchen in the cafeteria.” 

Peter takes a drink from the bottle before screwing the cap back on and passing the bottle to his left. Tris scrunches up her nose when Christina hands the bottle to her, but drinks from the bottle anyway. The bitter liquid isn’t pleasant and she grimaces after swallowing. She hands the bottle to Al on her left. The bottle continues to make its round around the circle as the game begins. 

“Let’s start,” Edward says. He looks around the circle before choosing who to ask first. “Will - Candor or Dauntless?” 

“Dauntless!” Will crows with a wide grin. Christina cheers and others around the circle join in. 

“All right, I dare you to pants your little flirting buddy Christina,” Edward challenges. Christina giggles and tries to defend herself, not really putting too much effort in. Will tackles her playfully, knocking Christina against Tris’ side. He wrestles with her for a couple of minutes before resorting to tickling her. He sits up triumphantly with her pants, waving them around over his head before wrapping them around his neck like a scarf. Tris laughs at the smug look on his face as he accepts the bottle from Edward and drinks. Christina pulls the bottle away from him as she sits up. 

“Give me that, I’m going to need a lot more of this if I’m going to end up sitting around in my underwear for all of you to ogle me,” she says before she takes a long gulp from the bottle. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand before handing the bottle to Tris again. 

The game continues with more dares than truths and a few more people in the circle losing a piece of their clothes and Tris decides that this game is actually kind of fun, even if the alcohol burns her throat as it goes down. She’s starting to feel warm and light when Christina’s voice cuts through her thoughts. 

“Tris! Your turn, Candor or Dauntless?” Christina asks. Tris bites her lip while she weighs her options before answering her friend. If she belongs here, then she shouldn’t have a problem doing a dare. But telling the truth can be brave, too. 

“Umm, Candor, I guess,” Tris answered. Christina clapped her hands before rubbing them together. 

“Ok, keep in mind I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying since I was a Candor!” Christina says in a singsong tone. “Now be honest - have you had any inappropriate thoughts about someone since you’ve been here?” 

Tris felt her cheeks heat up and she picked at the hem of her shirt. She couldn’t lie, especially if Christina saw her blushing. She took a deep breath before answering. 

“Yes,” she said simply, raising her chin slightly even though she felt herself blushing more when she heard some whistles and laughing from the opposite side of the circle where Peter and his friends sat. Tris turned in their direction and narrowed her eyes at the group. She was getting sick of their teasing and bullying. “Peter, Candor or Dauntless?” 

“Dauntless,” Peter said without hesitation, his eyes flashing. Tris hesitated for a moment, deciding what to challenge him with. 

“I dare you to streak through the Pit,” Tris said, crossing her arms over her chest. Peter stood up and swept into a bow before pulling off his shirt and toeing off his shoes, looking Tris directly in the eye before quickly undoing the button and zipper on his pants and pulling them off with his briefs in one quick motion and standing to his full height, locking eyes with her again. Tris grit her teeth together, regretting her choice for a dare. Peter wasn’t afraid to streak, he probably didn’t hate his body the same way that hers shamed her. Peter ran off with Edward and Al jogging behind him to make sure he completed his dare. 

When they returned Peter got dressed again and the game went on. Tris thought about what her parents would think of her daring a boy to undress in front of her and a group of people. In Abnegation it was rare for her to even see her parents holding hands, let alone show much affection towards each other publicly. A game like this would never be played in Abnegation. Christina’s voice interrupts her thoughts and brings her back to the game the group is playing. 

“Let’s up the ante a little, this is getting boring,” she says. She takes the bottle from Will and drinks before spinning the bottle in the middle of the circle. Christina looks around at the group and smiles wide. “Now we’re playing spin the bottle.” 

Tris wasn’t entirely sure what “spin the bottle” was, but she got the answer pretty quickly when the bottle stopped spinning, pointing across the circle to Edward. Tris watched as Christina winked at Will before crawling over to Edward and kissing him. She quickly averted her eyes and looked down at her boot instead, hoping that everyone was too occupied watching Christina kiss Edward to pay any attention to her. When she looked back up she saw Peter smirking cruelly at her and realized he had seen her. 

“Can the Stiff still play, does she even know what a kiss is?” he says to his friends. They snicker and eye Tris. She sits up straighter and glares in Peter’s direction. 

“Of course I know what a kiss is, I’ve kissed someone before,” she replies hotly, lying through her teeth and hoping Peter can’t tell. A pit in her stomach tells her that he probably can, judging by the smug look he’s giving her. 

Christina returns to sit between Tris and Will and smiles apologetically to Tris. Edward takes a drink and spins the bottle for his turn, grinning when the bottle lands on Myra. Tris tunes the game out, trying not to think about the fact that she’ll have to kiss someone in the group. In front of every one of the transfer initiates. She couldn’t show weakness or fear in front of these people that she was competing against to earn her spot in Dauntless. 

The game continues on around her - drink and spin, kiss. Drink and spin, kiss. Drink and spin, kiss. She’s partially aware of Christina sitting in Will’s lap, still in her underwear and tank top, after kissing him for his turn. 

Tris tunes back into the game when she realizes Al’s spin of the bottle has landed on her. Al’s eyes lit up and he leaned over eagerly to plop a sloppy kiss on her. She sat stiffly through the kiss, which was over quickly enough so she didn’t have much time to react to it. That was her first kiss. It was wet. She’s glad it was over quickly. 

Tris takes another drink from the bottle before leaning into the circle to give it a spin, trying not to think too hard about what to do when she finds out who she has to kiss and whether they are all as wet as the one Al gave her. When the bottle slows to a stop she feels like the floor should just open up and swallow her. Her spin lands on Peter. Her eyes flash up from the bottle to Peter. His lips curl slowly into a wicked grin. 

“This will be just like kissing my sister. She’s a coward, too,” Peter says to Molly. Tris clenches her fists. 

“Shut up, asshole,” Christina says. Tris is grateful for Christina’s comment, since she can’t exactly find the words to defend herself against Peter’s remarks. She can't refuse to kiss Peter if she doesn't want to be seen as a coward and if she doesn’t want to strip off her clothes, it's just a game. It won't mean anything. She can't back down and can't let him into her head. She takes a long swig from the bottle, letting the liquid burn her tongue and throat. 

_Ordinary acts of bravery_ , she tells herself. 

Tris doesn't break eye contact with Peter as she scoots across the circle to where Peter was leaning back against one of the beds, his feet sprawled out in front of him. She feels a cold sweat break out across the back of her neck and wishes she was back in the initiate training room and punching something. Anything would be better than having to play this game and kiss Peter in front of the group sitting in the circle. She feels them all leaning in, like they’ve become hungry predators ready for a show and she can sense all of their eyes on her back. 

"C'mon, Stiff, lay it on me, let's get this over with. I bet you don't even know how to use tongue," Peter says. 

He doesn't sit up to make it easy for her, so she has to awkwardly lean over him between his legs. He shifts his knee so that her arm gets knocked out from under her and she has to put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. She can feel the rumble of his chest before she hears his laughter. She doesn't like being this close to him without being able to have her arms to block herself from him, the fresh memory of him ripping her towel from her still makes her throat go tight. She'd rather be punching him than having to kiss him because of a stupid game. 

With a huff she brings her face close to Peter's and smells the alcohol on his breath before pressing her lips hard against his. It's not a great kiss, but it isn't a bad one, or at least that's what she hoped. It lasts for only a few seconds before she starts to pull away. Tris hears Peter snort and she becomes hyper aware of her inexperience with boys. 

Peter slides his hand up her side to hold her in place while he runs his tongue along her upper lip. She freezes at the contact. He bites her to get her to open her mouth with a gasp. He presses his lips to hers again, less forceful than she had been at the start and licks at the spot he bit her before sucking her lower lip into his mouth. She fists his shirt in her hand and her belly feels like it's dropped out from under her, the same way it feels when she leaps from the trains. His lips move against her slightly open mouth and she slowly moves her tongue to brush against his. She must have done something right, because Peter makes a soft humming sound and squeezes her side. 

She can't let Peter tease her after this that kissing her was like kissing a fish or it would just be another facet to Peter's bullying, so she shifts so she can get a better angle, not realizing that she'd leaned closer so that she was practically in his lap. She pressed her lips to his again, moving her lips slower than Peter’s move against hers. She copies his move and licks at his tongue before sucking on it and nipped at it roughly, enjoying the yelp he made, before sucking on his lip again.Their lips moved together and Peter's hand moved up into her hair, his fingers curling and tugging to get her face to the angle he wanted. 

The kiss ends when Molly clears her throat loudly. “Ahem, uh, I called time like a minute ago,” Molly says. 

Tris felt like her head was full of cotton and her pulse was rushing in her ears. She peered down at Peter smirking up at her and realized how she was almost seated in his lap and her hand was still gripping his shirt before she scrambled away from him quickly. She has no idea how long the kiss had gone, but her friends were staring at her with their eyebrows raised and their eyes wide. She wonders if part of their surprised stares are just from seeing a former Abnegation girl being so intimate in public, but they hadn’t stared at her like that when Al kissed her. Tris heard someone in the circle mutter something about "pent up tension" and "hate sex". 

“I didn’t realize a Stiff could learn so quickly. It wasn’t half bad kissing a Stiff, you know, even if you’re inexperienced,” Peter called across the circle after her. 

"You didn't seem to be complaining," she shot back over her shoulder. She caught the flash of his eyes just before she turned away. 

The game continued on after Tris returned to her spot next to Christina, looking anywhere but at Peter and failing when she realized he would take not looking at him as a sign of cowardice. His eyes are still on her while he takes a long swig from the bottle before spinning it for his turn. She pushes the phantom feeling of his lips against hers out of her head. Tris focuses on the bottle's movement, watching as it transitioned from a whirring blur to a slow circle before it finally slowed to a stop. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until the twinge of pain in her lungs made her exhale forcefully. 

She couldn’t put her finger on the unwarranted emotion that shot through her as she watched Peter crawl over to another girl in the circle whose name she couldn’t even remember. She tried not to stare at them, half caught up in over analyzing kissing Peter in her own head, but she can’t help it because Peter wasn’t just kissing the girl across the circle, he was _ravaging_ her. It certainly looked like a better kiss than the one she had with Peter. She was vaguely aware of the sound of cat calls from Drew while her eyes followed Peter’s hands as they roamed all over the girl. She’s half caught between discomfort of the public display of intimacy and complete fascination, and then he looks over and locks eyes with her for the rest of the kiss - which ends before Molly has to interrupt to call time. 

He's still staring at her, probably trying to get a rise out of her, so she bites down on the tip of her tongue and turns her attention to Christina and Will. Tris watches while Christina leans against Will giggling flirtatiously while he draws circles on her arm with his fingers. Tris wonders if it's more than just her Abnegation roots that make her uncomfortable with so much physical intimate contact. She becomes lost in her thoughts again. _Is there something wrong with her?_

In another few turns it's Peters turn to spin again. It doesn’t register with her that the bottle was pointing at her until Peter was halfway across the circle, his eyes predatory. She quickly became alert as he closed the distance between them, feeling her hairs stand on end at the thought that she had to kiss him again. He had her cornered between himself and a concrete pillar and Tris realized part of her wasn't sure if she really wanted to escape, the part of her that liked jumping from the trains and feeling the rush, the part of her that was Dauntless. 

She found herself lifting her chin and angling her face towards him to accept his kiss. He brought one hand up against the pillar beside her head and the other hand up to cup half of her jaw and her throat, using his thumb to push her chin up further and she tensed. She couldn't trust Peter not to choke her. He had a glint in his eye as he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue more insistent this time. She didn't have time to think about whether or not Peter was going to hurt her because as soon as she opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers he was sucking on her tongue and her whole world skewed sideways. She lifted a hand and gripped his shirt to steady herself, absently moving her fingers against his collar and into his neckline to graze her nails against his skin. She could feel Peter shudder slightly, then he pressed his body closer to hers while their tongues battled together before he won out for dominance. 

He kissed her relentlessly and she almost found herself enjoying it, forgetting for a moment that it was Peter who was making her insides feel like jelly and boiling water all at once. She came back to herself quickly when she registered his hand at her side insistently and it was like an ice bucket had been dumped on her. His fingers were venturing under her shirt and skimming up her side before she shoved at him roughly, biting his lip hard when he didn't immediately move off of her. He jumped back from her and pressed his fingers to his bleeding lip. 

"Jesus, Stiff, there's not reason to act like a prude bitch. What's wrong, are you scared that you liked it?" he said as he backed away from her. 

Tris crossed her arms over her chest tightly and sat up straighter. She leaned forward to grab the half-empty bottle after Peter returned to his side of the circle and drank, willing herself not to close her eyes and grimace at the taste. She didn't want to play the game anymore, but she couldn't very well do that surrounded by a group of Dauntless initiates, even her friends would consider her a coward for not wanting to play an innocent enough game of kissing people. Her eye lids feel heavy from the alcohol. She swallowed thickly, _be brave_ she thought, and spun for her next turn. 

The bottle lands on Christina and she's so relieved it's not Peter again that she doesn’t really stop to question that not only has she kissed two different boys tonight, but now she’s also going to kiss a girl. At least if it had to be anyone it was Christina and not Molly. Christina giggles, well past drunk, and leans over to press her lips against Tris'. She hears Peter cat call at them from across the room and other boys join in. Kissing Christina isn’t much different from kissing a boy, from what little her two experiences with Al and Peter tonight can tell her. Christina’s lips are softer than the boys’ chapped ones. 

The game continues for a short while after her kiss with Christina until the alcohol is all gone and the group disperses without much comment. Tris watches as Will pulls Christina to his side and nuzzles her neck. She's relieved she can go to bed finally and forget that this night ever happened, forget that she had to kiss Peter. _Forget that it wasn't altogether horrible_. 

Tris heads to the bathroom to splash water on her face before bed. 

\- - -

Tris lets the cool water run on her hands for a couple of minutes before covering her face with her damp hands. She didn’t know what time it was, but she knows it’s late and that most of the other initiates have already fallen onto their cots in a slightly drunken stupor. She hears someone else enter the open room behind her. 

“For a Stiff who hates touching you sure did like kissing, huh?” the voice behind her taunts and she feels herself stiffen, gripping the edge of the sink. _Peter_. She turned around to face him with her jaw set. 

“I did not, it was just a game,” she says. “I had to kiss you or I would’ve had to sit in my underwear all night.” 

“Your eyes say otherwise, liar,” he counters with a smirk. He edges closer to her, making her take a step back so that he is between her and the sink. 

“Well, then maybe that’s just the alcohol because you didn’t make me feel anything for you with just a _kiss_ ,” she replies harshly. 

"Prove it." Peter pushes Tris up against the wall behind her with his mouth on her neck so quickly that she doesn’t have time to react. "I want to know how those nice legs of yours would look straddling me." 

Tris tries to resist but when Peter latches his lips around her pulse point under her ear and swirls his tongue against her neck a strangled sound escapes her and she is gripping his shirt tightly in her fists, unsure of whether she means to shove him away again or pull him in closer. It doesn't matter, as long as his mouth stays right where it is. 

"This doesn't seem to be affecting you at all, Stiff," he says against her earlobe. 

" _Shut up_ , Peter!" 

"Make me,” he says and she shoots her hand roughly into his hair to hold him still, kissing him to shut him up. She can still taste the tang of the blood on his lip from when she bit him earlier. The icy feeling that she felt earlier has melted and she feels a newfound confidence in herself. When Peter’s hands trail down her sides this time she doesn’t shrink back, instead she hops up and wraps her legs around him. He catches her and grips her hips tightly, his fingers splaying across her thighs as he presses her further into the wall. It still isn’t close enough for the hungry feeling that has started to stir deep within her belly. Her nails find purchase as she scrapes her nails across the expanse of his back, smiling secretly to herself at the sound he elicits from the sting mixed with the heady pleasure. 

"You're the one who seems to be fixated on me," she says when he is kissing her neck again, a soft sigh escaping her on the last word. He bites down on her pulse point and his fingers grip her hips tightly, digging in for one heartbeat, two beats, before loosening his grip. His lips find hers again and they continue to kiss each other wildly. 

They break apart at the sound of one of the other initiates coming into the bathroom and heading towards the opposite end of the room. Peter released his vice grip on her hips and let her quietly slide down between his body and the wall. She could feel exactly how kissing her had effected him. He spun around on his heel and went back into the dormitory without a word to her. She took a deep breath in and let it out, counting to ten before walking out of the bathroom. 

Tris finds Peter's eyes lingering on her as she gets into her bed and feels a jolt of emotions run through her, his words echoing in her head and her lips still tingling with the feel of his mouth on hers. 

As she stared at the ceiling in the darkness she felt confused. She associated Peter with pompous bully and her competition, yet she had her legs wrapped around his waist and was eagerly kissing him while he had her pushed up against a wall in the bathroom ten minutes ago. She pressed her fingers to her lips idly. He’s her enemy, but she had completely forgotten that when he was torturing the pulse point in her neck with his tongue. 

She huffs out a frustrated sigh. She didn’t understand why she didn’t feel the panic and icy feeling when she was full on making out with Peter in the bathroom, especially since they were alone and it could have easily continued to escalate further if they hadn’t been interrupted. She turned from her back onto her side and faced away from Peter’s line of sight. 

This doesn’t change anything at all. She wouldn’t let it.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of Candor or Dauntless that turned into spin the bottle Tris just wants to spend the day in the training room for her day off. Peter has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, mistakes are my own.

Tris was moaning, there were a flurry of sensations clouding her head. There was a tongue sucking at the sensitive patch of skin under her ear as an arm was wrapping tightly around her body to pull her closer - can't get close enough. Everything was blurry and moving too fast while being perfectly sharp and clear at the same time.

" _Peter_."

Was that her? It was. She had just moaned Peter's name into a shoulder - his shoulder. His muscles flexed and relaxed under his skin. Something hard was pressing into her back - the wall. His arms were holding her tightly, supporting her while his hips were moving relentlessly against her.

He pins her hands over her head with one hand and gropes her ass hard while he grinds against her with her legs wrapped around him and she feels her insides twist and clench in a frenzy, pressure building as he continues to move with her, and then she feels like she's in a free-fall and the tingling sensation moves outward to her fingertips and her toes in waves.

Too much clothing, she decides, way too much clothing, she needs to feel his skin against hers and she claws frantically at his shirt, she doesn't quite understand why it's so urgent or what the rush is, but she knows that if she spends one more second without a barrier between them then she might die. She cries out again as he bites into the muscles of her shoulder.

The feeling of skin against skin is a strange, pleasant and warm sensation. Peter is all smooth skin pulled tight over the hard lines of muscles. He easily lifts her up like she weighs nothing and hugs her tightly against him. She wishes she could be swallowed up in this feeling. Then a small part of her brain reminds her that it's Peter Hayes that she just had that thought about. She shudders, both at the thought and at the way he kisses her hungrily like a starving man.

Suddenly he's laying her down on the semi-soft training mats - how did they get to the training room? The thought echoes around her and feels like it's floating by her on the water. Her question has already escaped her reach when he moves his hand to brush her hair back.

Tris is suddenly very aware that Peter wouldn't really act like this. And that she's naked.

 _This isn't real_ , she tries to convince herself like it's the most important thing she's ever had to do.

"Are you ready, Stiff?"

Panic bubbles up from the center of her chest and she doesn't know what to do, the helpless feeling of unknowing spreading through her limbs. There was something important she was trying to remember just a moment ago, but now she had completely forgotten it.

The panic subsides when he's kissing that sensitive patch of skin on her neck again and the fire in her belly lights up again. He was leaning over her now, resting on his elbows between her legs and for a moment she oddly finds herself focusing on the way the dust dances in the light over Peter's shoulder.

His tongue traces a lazy pattern down from her neck, skates across her collar bone, and then arches over the slight curve of her breast. She arches up into the feeling and against him. Again she finds herself trying to remember what it was she was telling herself, why this felt off.

The urgency from before returned and her thoughts escaped her again. They were moving together as one mass of limbs and heavy breathing. Peter flips them over so that she's on top and his hands grip her hips tightly for one heartbeat, two beats, she locks eyes with him as she feels the throbbing pressure building deep inside of her lower belly and -

Tris awoke with a start, feeling tiny beads of sweat on her neck. She looked around wildly and saw the familiar ceiling of the dormitory above her. She was sure she was blushing beet red. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes and pulled her hair to the side so she could massage the muscles of her neck. She couldn't believe what she had just been dreaming about.

"Those are some hickeys," Christina said to her with a smirk.

Tris clapped a hand over her neck and shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom. She kept her eyes down, hoping to avoid eye contact with the rest of the initiates who had whistled at her spin the bottle mishaps during the game the previous night.

She was so absorbed in counting the cracks in the ground that she walked right into a solid mass of body.

"Oof," she said. She looked up and felt the flush creeping further up her neck into her cheeks.  _Peter. Of course._

"Watch where you're going, there, Stiff," he said. His eyes flicked down to her neck when she moved her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. A slow grin spread across his face. "Wow, Prior, you should really have a look at your neck. If the other boys see you with a hickey mark they're going to think you're easy and we wouldn't want that for a little girl from Abnegation, would we?"

Tris wanted to crawl back under the thin covers on her cot. Instead she jutted her chin at him. He laughed at the look on her face and left her standing there in the bathroom. She caught his eye in the mirror on his way out, he had turned around to glance at her. Liquid fire shot through her at the piercing, intense look he gave her in the mirror.

 _Maybe he had the same dream that you did,_ she thought to herself.

Tris turned back to her reflection in the mirror and gently probed her fingers at the red and purple marks Peter had left on her neck. If only her parents and her brother could see her now. She arranged her hair so that it covered the bruise marks and went to grab Christina, Will, and Al so that they could go get breakfast.

 

\- - -

 

The cafeteria seemed even louder than usual, so Tris gave up on trying to pay attention to her conversation with her friends. Her mind wandered elsewhere.

I wonder if Peter followed me into the bathroom so that he could get inside my head, she asked herself. She wouldn't put it past him to try every avenue of bullying her to psyche her out of Dauntless initiation. She wouldn't let him get inside her head and she definitely wouldn't let him bully her out of being here.

I chose Dauntless. I'm going to be Dauntless.

But then he certainly did seem fixated on her, and Tris thought about whether or not their little bathroom tryst would make his fixation grow. An unbidden memory of his fingers gripping her hips tightly when she made a comment about his infatuation with her popped up in her head and she blushed at the thought, shoving a hot spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth to distract herself.

Tris glanced around at the surrounding tables to see if anyone had noticed her blushing when her eyes locked with Peter's. She caught him staring at her. Tris felt the same beads of sweat on the back of her neck that she had woken up to this morning as their eye lock continued on for an eternity of never ending seconds. Her eyes flicked down to his lips when he licked them for a brief respite before looking back up to meet his eyes. She remembered what those lips tasted like still. She desperately wanted to drag her eyes away from him, but at the same time she found herself unable to do so. An echo deep in her mind wondered if he was having the same dilemma.

Images from her dream last night floated up into her mind and she inhaled sharply, looking away from Peter. She couldn't look him in the eyes and remember the eye lock from her dream when she was on top of him about to -

"Hellooooo, Earth to Tris, did you hear me?" Christina was snapping her fingers in front of Tris' face. Tris was grateful for the timely interruption to where that train of thought had been going. She cleared her through and turned to Christina more fully with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Tris could still see Peter out of the corner of her eye. He was still looking in her direction.

"I was saying that we're going to go wander around the shops today, since Four and Eric gave us the day off. Are you going to come with us?"

"I think I might go down to the training room. Four did say it would still be open if we wanted extra practice. I think I might need it if I want to stay here," Tris said. Christina nodded and hopped up to follow the boys, turning once to wave at Tris. Tris waved back and got up to put her tray away. She could feel a certain pair of eyes heavy on her back the whole way until she had left the cafeteria completely.

 

\- - -

 

The sound of the bag becomes like a meditation to her. Smack. Bap. Bap. Smack. She thinks about the stupid game the initiates played last night and a grunt escapes her when she punches the bag again. She takes a deep breath in and holds her hands on the bag to steady it.

Tris channels all of her frustration, humiliation, and other... feelings that she won't even begin to acknowledge into her fists smacking into the ancient leather sack. She finds the anger to be a good fuel and punching the bag makes her feel much better.

She's lost track of how long she had been in the training room for when she heard the door open. Her heart leaps into her throat for a moment, wondering if Four was the one who came in. Then she remembered that he would be in a meeting still. Tris turned to see who it was that was joining her.

Her heart plummets from her throat into her stomach when she sees Peter walk in.

He eyes her for a moment before crossing to the table to wrap his hands with the strips of cloth laying there. She wants to ask what he's doing there, but she also doesn't want to start up a conversation with him, either. So instead she decides to ignore him and resumes her methodical punching routine, losing herself in the movements.

Tris doesn't know how much time has passed since Peter joined her in the training room, she was vaguely aware of him working out just out of her peripheral line of sight. She could almost forget that he was there, if it wasn't for the occasional grunt from his side of the room and that feeling you get on the back of your neck when someone else is in a room with you. That, and he kept laughing at her when she messed up her form, which she stubbornly ignores. It's almost a comfortable silence, save for his teasing laughs and snickering, until he comes over to the bags and starts to work on one hanging two down from hers.

Tris hesitates before returning to punching her own bag with resumed force. She focuses on the bag in front of her and tries not to falter when she can feel Peter watching her. They continue on in that pattern until he finally breaks the silence.

"You were moaning in your sleep last night, you know," he says. His words catch her so off guard that she over extends and trips into the bag, grabbing a hold of it to steady herself. She turned her head to face him slowly, wanting to wipe the smug half grin off of his face. When she continued to stare blankly at him he supplied more information, matter of factly. "I couldn't sleep last night."

Tris made a noncommittal sound and turned back to her punching bag.

"You said my name," he continued, stepping closer so he was only one bag away now. Tris swung her head around to meet his eyes again. They were cruel eyes, those of a cat playing with its prey.

"I liked the way it sounded, like a breathy little moan," he said.

Tris opens her mouth to rebut his claim, hoping he was only teasing her in this new way he's found, except that she was dreaming of him last night and she could already feel a flush creeping up her neck. No, that's just the sweat, she thought to herself placatingly.

Peter's snort interrupts her thoughts again and she watches him draw a random pattern of circles up and down the punching bag without taking his eyes off of her.

"I guess that kiss last night really did do it for you, then, if you were dreaming about it."

"For me?" She asked hotly, beginning to get annoyed with him. "I seem to recall a certain hard muscle poking me in the belly when you stopped pinning me to the wall."

Tris takes pleasure in watching his throat bob when he swallows, shuffling a half step towards her. He narrows his eyes, looking down on her, "Tell me, Stiff, did I give it to you just as good in your dream?"

She wanted to take a step back, but she didn't want to look like she was retreating from him and letting him win. She shrugged and turned back to her bag, resuming her practice.

"I was dreaming that I was sparring with you," she answered as nonchalantly as she could manage. He barked out a laugh and watched her throw methodic punches.

"Your form sucks, how do you expect to make it past the first stage if you still haven't mastered how to throw a punch?" he teased. "Move your back leg back further - no - you have to spread your legs more."

Peter moved behind her and kicked at her back foot to nudge it back three inches. Tris stiffened for a moment, not enjoying the feeling of him standing over her from behind. When she threw a punch again she would only grudgingly admit to herself that it felt better, more fluid. She felt like she could control the force better. Peter watched her for a few moments, remaining behind her.

"You should keep those legs spread all the time. It's a good look for you," he said. Tris pulled a face and looked at him over her shoulder. He wagged his eyebrows at her before looking down her body, pausing for a long moment on her ass before quickly moving back up. Tris clenched her fists and swung around to throw an uppercut into his stomach.

Peter doubled over, not prepared to block her quick attack. He stumbled back a couple of steps before standing upright again, rubbing at his stomach and grinning at her. Tris wanted to wipe that smug grin off of his face. She could feel her frustration building, putting her on edge.

"You're a pig, Peter," she said through gritted teeth. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head towards her with a wolf-like grin.

"Well, look at the little girl from Abnegation throwing insults. That's not very selfless, is it?"

Tris couldn't contain the strangled cry of rage that escaped her as she flung herself forward, slamming into Peter and flinging punches anywhere she could connect her fist. She had caught him off guard again, but he recovered quickly and brought his arms up to block her small fists. With a grunt he wrapped his large arms around her and flipped her over onto the training mat behind him. She landed with a thud and kicked her leg up, catching him in the shoulder and making him wince.

They tumbled around and continued to spar with each other until the sparring evolved into wrestling. Limbs were tangled together in a jumbled heap until Peter rolled Tris onto her back with her legs still locked around his waist and his hands pinning her wrists above her head. They were both breathing hard from the exertion, chests rising and falling in each others' space. They glared at each other as the silence stretched between them. Peter's eyes flicked down to her lips for a moment before looking her in the eyes again.

Tris was the first to move, shooting up towards him to press her lips to his. She had spurred him into motion, one hand sliding roughly down her arm to her wrap around her waist and crush her body to his. His fingers sent electric shocks across her skin that made her feel like every nerve ending was alive.

Her hands moved frantically, one clutching at his shirt and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair, twisting to make him groan against her. He nipped at her bottom lip and when her breath hitched on a gasp he slid his tongue against hers. Tris arched up against him as they kissed, pressing her hips into his. She could already feel the effect this was having on him.

Peter tugged at the knot her hair was in until it was loose. He buried his fingers in her hair and tugged to get Tris to tilt her head back. She gasped out again when he trailed hot, wet openmouthed kisses down her neck, paying special homage to the mark he'd left on her neck the night before. She could feel his tongue swiping up the sweat that had collected in the dimple of her collar bone. When he latched down at the juncture of her shoulder and her neck she cried out, grinding her hips unconsciously against him. Her eyes shot open and then closed just as quickly when he thrust his hips down against her, rubbing at just the right angle to start the nerves in her belly to tighten into a tense knot.

Tris gripped Peter's hair with both of her hands when she couldn't take his calculated torture of her neck any longer and pulled him up by the hair to crash their lips together again.

"You're a fast learner," he muttered against her lips.

Their lips and tongues glided together in the same rhythm as their hips grinding together. The warm pressure between her legs was building quickly as Peter's hand traced his fingers maddeningly up and down her side, skimming the thin cotton fabric of her shirt.

The rational part of her brain that was telling her this was a No Good Very Bad Idea and that she should be more afraid of this was losing its battle against the way her traitorous body was reacting to the thing Peter's tongue was doing. Another moan escaped her lips as Peter continued his tortuous ministrations and effectively short circuited her brain for a few moments.

Her fingers skated down his back to tug at his shirt and Peter quickly obliged her by roughly tugging his shirt over his head and pulling her back against him. Tris's fingers hungrily explored his skin, nails scraping over his shoulders. That seemed to set his skin on fire.

Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled them over so that Tris was straddling his hips. His fingers snuck under the hem of her shirt to press against her flushed skin and she was suddenly struck by the memory of her dream from the night before.

"Is this what you dreamed about?"

He was looking up at her with a smug grin and ground his hips up into her. Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation before falling closed. When she opened her eyes again and peered down at him, shirtless and just as flushed as she was she made a decision.

"This doesn't mean anything," she said, pausing her movements to make sure he was paying attention. "It doesn't change anything. I still hate you for being an asshole."

Peter smirked up at her from the dusty and sweaty mat. His hair was sticking up at different angles from where she had gripped it and run her fingers through it. She watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his neck and Tris had half a mind to follow it with her tongue.

"It doesn't have to change anything at all," he said, his hands sliding over her thighs and up her waist. "Now shut up and come here, Stiff."


End file.
